


Some Cupid Kills With Arrows, Some With Traps

by babykid528



Category: Star Trek Reboot RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gender Issues, Graduate School, M/M, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/pseuds/babykid528
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is a Lit Major specializing in queer/gender theory in the Master's program at Berkley and Zach is a PhD student studying queer/gender theory and Drama. Both are thrown together as TA's for a joint Lit/Drama course about genderswapping/queering up Shakespeare's plays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Cupid Kills With Arrows, Some With Traps

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Lies, lies, and more lies. Chris and Zach belong to themselves. As does Beau Garrett. All the verse within, and the titles, belongs to Shakespeare. Judith Butler and her gender theory is the product of her hard work, which I worship. And all the other characters are actually mine.

"Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps."  
\- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing, III.i.111

\--------

 

“That’s not the point.”

“Mr. Pine, please enlighten us.”

Chris licked his lips nervously before clarifying, “Judith Butler’s not arguing that gender performativity exists solely in how we each act individually.. When I wake up in the morning and put on my ‘male’ accepted clothing, deodorant, cologne, etc… that’s not when my gender performance begins. We’re in a constant state of performance, just by existing within our society. Naked, clothed, awake, asleep- we’re always, in some way, performing our genders.”

“Very good, Mr. Pine,” Dr. Keith smiled, “and the performance is always changing. A lot of what is accepted as feminine now was once considered masculine less than fifty years ago.”

Jillian asked, “How, then, is the male-female binary still in place?”

“The binary proves Butler’s argument, doesn’t it?” Chris piped up again.

Dr. Keith paced at the front of the small classroom, her arms crossed, “Unpack that, Mr. Pine.”

“Well,” Chris took a deep breath, “the binary depends upon the definition, socially, of what’s male and what’s female, right?”

“Correct.”

“So, if the definition of female and male is always changing by society’s terms, then gender must be performed, otherwise the definitions would remain fixed throughout time.”

Dr. Keith leaned back against the table at the front of the room, legs now crossed, hands gripping the edge of the tabletop. She watched Chris calculatingly, before surveying the rest of her students.

“I’m very gender male,” she began telling them, “By society’s term’s- butch. In drag. Shakespeare would name me Viola. ‘She’s the Man’ and all that.” The class snickered and Dr. Keith grinned while pointing at them, “Don’t pretend you haven’t all seen that movie. Regardless of sexual orientation, we can all recognize the beauty of Channing Tatum.” Everyone outright laughed at that. When Dr. Keith continued, she was serious once again, “Now, why is it that I am still accepted as ‘female’ when I present in so masculine a way?”

One of the other two men in the class, Ryan, ventured an answer, “You still cultivate a female appearance.”

Dr. Keith raised her eyebrow incredulously. “In my polo, jeans, and Chucks?”

“You style your hair.” Marissa, in the front row, offered.

Dr. Keith waved her off, “Remember that show _Full House_? Uncle Jesse spent more time on his hair than I ever will.”

The class broke out into giggles again.

“Besides,” Dr. Keith continued, “They may call this a pixie cut on women, but it’s called a normal trim for any one of the Jonas Brothers.”

Emily spoke, “You wear make up.”

Dr. Keith laughed, “Ever heard of David Bowie?”

“Not all, or most of, society even identified him as ‘truly male’,” Jillian offered, much less meekly than her previous answer.

“But he has a penis. His voice is low. He married a woman,” Dr. Keith listed off.

Chris scoffed, “Yeah, and he was with men, wore make-up, and sang about Suffragettes…”

Dr. Keith prompted, “What’s your point?”

“My point is,” Chris replied, “a binary is ignorant. That’s like right and wrong. Black and white. Binaries completely disregard everything in the middle by representing only the two extremes.”

Ryan asked, “But what’s in the middle of male and female?”

“Genderqueer,” Dr. Keith answered matter-of-factly. “Transgenders, crossdressers, gays, bisexuals, asexuals, anyone trans.”

“Trans?” Julie asked.

Dr. Keith clarified, “Trangressive- anyone who transgresses the socially accepted norm. They’re all in the middle, and they’re lost in the void as society tries so desperately to perpetuate the extremes of the heteronormative binary only.”

“Even Judith Butler?” Someone else asked.

“No, not really,” Dr. Keith assured, “She just doesn’t have the level of personal experience necessary to bring gender performance too far beyond a ‘male’ and ‘female’ issue. That’s why Riki Wilchins comes in and takes it further, which we’ll discuss next week. Have a nice weekend.”

Everyone packed up and began filing out of the classroom. Chris collected his things slowly, ensuring he’d be the last to leave the classroom, before approaching Dr. Keith.

“Professor?”

“Yes, Mr. Pine?”

The slight nervousness from earlier was back, causing Chris to swipe his tongue over his lower lip again before speaking. “Your class next semester… I was hoping to fill one of your TA slots. I know that’s usually reserved for PhD students…”

“We’re doing something a little differently this Spring, actually,” Dr. Keith corrected him, “So, there’s going to be one MA and one PhD student, Mr. Pine.”

Chris lit up, “Really…”

“Here,” she pulled out a stapled packet of papers. “[Here’s the course description](http://the27thkingdom.livejournal.com/5681.html#cutid1), the TA requirements, and the application. Unless you commit a felony between now and then, I don’t see why I wouldn’t pick you.”

“Really?”

“You are, in fact, the best student I’ve had in this subject in years, Chris.” She smiled at his look of mild shock. “Don’t act so surprised. You’ve been teaching this class with me all semester… and don’t feign ignorance over that either. It’s unbecoming of you. Your classmates learn more from our dialogue than they ever would just from reading and not asking their questions. I would be stupid not to hire you. Now, have a nice weekend and bring this back next week.”

Chris thanked her profusely and wished her a good weekend before striding out into the hallway. Beau was out there waiting for him.

“You have a nice class?” she asked after greeting him with a kiss.

He smiled brilliantly. “Yeah, it was a very good class. You wanna get some dinner?”

“Sure thing,” she replied, catching his infectious mood. She wrapped her arm around his waist before pulling him in the direction of the student union, “I’m starving.”  
********

 

That was how Chris Pine ended up standing in the Zellerbach playhouse on the first day of the semester waiting for the 60 or so students to arrive for their first lesson. Dr. Davis and Dr. Keith were huddled over the syllabus, perfect contrasts to one another. Where Keith was all soft curves hidden beneath layers of long sleeves, one of her signature polos, and baggy boyfriend jeans, Davis was, well… he was what society would consider to be very masculine- work boats, jeans not much different from Keith’s, tight black t-shirt accentuating his very in shape physique, stubbled angular jaw, and wavy blond hair, just long enough to run your finger through. Stick him in hard hat, pass him a jackhammer, and you’d have Mr. July teaching theatre.

“He’s kind of beautiful, isn’t he?”

Chris was startled when the soft voice sounded from behind him. He turned to find a lanky guy in skinny jeans, flip flops, striped long-sleeved shirt, and thick-rimmed black glasses, with slicked back black hair staring at him with chocolate brown eyes. One of his impressive eyebrows was raised and he was smirking at Chris, hands in his jean pockets. (how they fit in those impossibly tight pockets, Chris had no idea).

“Wh-what?” Chris stuttered.

“Eddie,” the striped man of mystery said, as if in clarification, “It’s a shame… he’s as straight as a May pole… which is a very gay object once you think about it.”

Chris just stared in what he could only assume was horrified confusion at this newcomer’s disjointed verbal diarrhea.

The other man continued attempting to clarify, “You were staring at Dr. Davis. Unless you were staring at Jo… Dr. Keith. Which, you wouldn’t be bothering with unless you missed the memo- she’s completely gay and happily partnered. Of course, I’m pretty sure you’re Chris Pine, which means Jo handpicked you to be my partner in crime, teaching these kids how to think outside the binary, so you must be well aware of Jo’s love situation. Ergo, you had to be staring at Eddie, who is a gorgeous man, though tragically straight. And we’ve come full circle.”

“Oh my God, I need an Advil,” Chris blurted out.

The Incredible Rambling Man burst into laughter before offering his hand to Chris. “I’m Zachary Quinto, PhD student in the Drama department, specializing in just the kind of queer/gender studies dramatic productions this class will be exploring. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Chris gripped Zach’s hand and shook it, still dazed. “Well that explains your using ‘ergo,’ Drama Major… I’d normally say ‘Chris Pine, pleasure’s all mine,’ but you already know me somehow… so, I’ll just say ‘pleasure’s all mine’ then.”

They dropped their hands and Zach’s found it’s way back into his impossibly tight pocket once again, while Chris crossed his arms over his chest. They both turned to watch the students now flooding into the playhouse.

“So, you’re in the MA program….” Zach piped in again. “Lit, right?”

Chris nodded, “With a concentration in gender/queer theory.”

“The best concentration.”

Chris turned to look at Zach just in time to catch a wink. He was about to ask how it was Zach seemed to know who he was before he got there, but Dr. Keith’s voice boomed out, “Alright, everyone. Let’s take seats and get started.”

“Showtime,” Zach whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. The next thing Chris knew, he was being steered in the direction of two side-by-side, front-row seats, Zach’s hand on his lower back. For a brief moment, Chris wondered what he had gotten himself into.  
********

 

Facebook. That’s how Zach had found him. Fucking facebook.

“So, you stalked me online, huh?” Chris asked at the end of class that Wednesday night. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was about this Zach Quinto that pissed him off so much.

Zach just stared at him for a moment before replaying, “Hello to you too, Christopher.”

“Hiya, stalker,” Chris responded.

Zach smiled and shook his head. “I may have possibly looked you up just to see who I’d be working with…”

“Freaking stalkerbook,” Chris dropped his head and mumbled.

“Your Twitter account is much more fascinating.”

Chris whipped his head up to stare at Zach who was innocently sipping from his eco-friendly aluminum water bottle.

Chris narrowed his eyes, practically growling, “Those tweets are set to private. How did you even—”

“You boys getting along?” Dr. Keith asked as she approached the pair.

“Absolutely,” Zach answered cheerily, throwing his arm across Chris’ shoulders. Chris tried to discreetly shrug him off.

“Good, let’s have a quick meeting with Eddie before we leave tonight, okay? He’s clearing out space for us in his office apparently.”

“That could take years,” Zach laughed.

Dr. Keith chuckled.

Dr. Davis’ office was in the hallway leading to the playhouse: a very short walk. Zach trailed behind, letting Chris walk beside Dr. Keith.

“How are you doing with this so far, Mr. Pine? Overwhelmed?” Dr. Keith asked quietly.

“I’m doing fine, Professor. The semester’s off to a good start- classes going well. Honestly, I’m really excited for the rehearsals in this class to start. It’ll be interesting to see the class from your point of view.”

“You want to teach?” Zach asked sounding shocked.

Chris, still riled from earlier, clenched his jaw and answered without bothering to look back at Zach, “You didn’t see that online? Must’ve missed the link for my blog.”

“Huh,” Zach grunted, “I must’ve just not read far enough into the archives.”

Chris spun around, shocked, to face Zach.

Dr. Keith just smiled at them both.

“Come on, guys. You can compare your career goals later,” she told them before ushering them into Dr. Davis’ office where they didn’t waste any time getting down to business.

“Hey, boys. So, this is the scoop,” Dr. Davis began as soon as everyone was seated, “We’re holding auditions for the different scenes and crew roles next week.”

“It’s going to be the four of us judging the students, so we’ll need you both to arrive a bit early for classes next week,” Dr. Keith continued.

“Sounds good,” Zach shrugged. Chris just nodded his response, still fuming at Zach.  
********

 

“Oh my God, this is worse than American Idol,” Chris groaned quietly into his hand as yet another waif tripped all over Portia’s quality of mercy speech and then literally tripped off the stage.

“These are upperclassmen?” Zach discreetly whispered..

Chris stared up at him through his fingers and slightly skewed glasses, slouched in his chair. “Yes,” he groaned.

“Come on, you two,” Dr. Keith hushed, clearly suppressing a smirk, “There are only ten more to get through tonight.”

“Ten more?” Chris hissed.

Zach had the audacity to laugh.

“What the fuck, man?” Chris growled into Zach’s ear so only he could hear.

Zach’s eyes were dancing with mirth, “What?”

“How do you find this funny? _You’re_ the fucking drama major. Why aren’t you throwing things at these students?” Chris’ voice was frantic, even as a whisper.

“Undergrad auditions always suck,” Zach explained. “It’s nice being on the judging end though. Why aren’t you just laughing at the free entertainment?”

“Acting should be more serious than this.”

Zach raised an eyebrow, visibly sobering, “It’s a class, Chris. Just an undergrad class. They’re not all gonna be Denzel Washingtons and Meryl Streeps. Calm down.”

Chris scowled and turned back toward the stage.  
********

 

from: KEITH, JO  
to: "Pine, Chris" ; “Quinto, Zach”

CC: DAVIS, EDWARD

date: Sun, January 31, 2010 at 6:29 PM  
subject: **Casting List Flyer**

Hey Chris and Zach,

If you both could each post a copy of the cast list (one outside the classroom in Dwinelle and the other outside the Zellerbach playhouse) after tomorrow’s class, Dr. Davis and I would both appreciate it.

Also, as you will notice on the cast list, Dr. Davis and I have added a scene to the performance list. We both agree that it would be best if you both perform that one together, with the two of us as supporting roles. ☺

Best,

Jo

Dr. Jo A. Keith  
Professor  
English Department  
UC Berkeley  
********

 

** Scenes and monologues: **

_Richard III_

Anne------------Emily Turner

 

_The Merchant of Venice_

Portia------------Tess Hadley  
Naressa---------Leah Douglas  
Bassanio--------Marcus Long  
Antonio---------Doug Trivey  
Shylock---------Evan Palmer  
The Judge-------John Card

 

_Romeo and Juliet_

“Romeo”--------Lianna Chase  
Juliet-------------Jenna Carol

 

_Twelth Night_

Viola------------Gina Morris

_Othello_

Iago--------------Matthew Billings  
Othello-----------Toby Fox  
Desdemona------Layla Marcus

_Taming of the Shrew_

“Kate”--------Chris Pine  
Petruchio---------Zach Quinto  
********

 

“Jesus, the guy has absolutely NO serious streak. Everything’s a joke. I should be thankful he’s not talking over my head in circles like the first class, but MAN, this blasé attitude he has towards acting is definitely not an improvement. And now, on top of having to work with him- I just bet his teaching style is laughable- I have to perform a romantic scene with the guy,” Chris bitched while flopping backwards onto the couch while Beau sat by on the floor, painting her toenails. Syrupy plates were atop the coffee table, remnants of their traditional Monday Pancake Breakfast.

“He sounds like he could be your soul-mate, Chris,” she told him nonchalantly, as she carefully scraped some errant polish from her cuticle with her thumbnail.

Chris stared at her bent head, gaping.

“Are you inhaling those polish fumes?!”

Beau looked up, brushing her bangs out of her eyes, and smiled. “Always.”

Chris rolled his eyes. She pointed at him with her polish brush, dripping tiny pink splotches onto the carpet

“You used to be the exact same way before you got this TA position, Chris,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, well, I grew up.”

Beau snorted, “Yeah, into a boring prick.”

“Hey!”

She sighed, “Listen, if I wasn’t hopelessly devoted to you due to our years together as undergrad BFFs, I would never hang out with you now, baby.”

He gaped.

“You’re a pocket protector and a piece of masking tape on the bridge of those hipster glasses shy of sitting at the nerd table in the cafeteria,” she explained, “And that phase is all good and well, except that you’re twenty-eight years old, and when you were actually in high school, you were the heavy metal loving prankster with one hell of a pitching arm who never even saw anything but the cool kids table.”

Chris self-consciously adjusted his glasses. “What the fuck, Beau?!”

“Hey! Someone has to tell you, for your own good,” she shrugged, moving on to the other foot with the polish. “You got into the MA program and threw yourself so overzealously into your gender theory and women’s studies that you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have fun.”

“I have fun!”

“Blogging? Tweeting? Writing papers?”

He deflated, offering a tentative, “Yes.”

“Yeah, well,” she responded more gently, “The Chris I know used to have fun by writing poetry and stories on napkins about the people we saw in the Union. You used to keep the local movie theater in business with those impromptu film fests you’d declare every weekend, dragging along half the dorm with you. You haven’t touched your guitar in months. And that smile and laugh you used to flash everyone so easily, the one I fell in love with, Chris- it’s gone.”

Chris stared at the pink-splotched carpet, most definitely not brooding.  
********

“So, we’re going to have to start spending some serious time together, huh?”

Chris, who had been hanging the cast flyer in Dwinelle, was momentarily caught off guard as Zach, who came out of nowhere, threw his arm across Chris’ shoulders.

“I guess so,” he responded, turning his head to look at Zach.

Zach grinned toothily at Chris before asking, “Your place or mine?”

For a moment Chris wanted to scoff and roll his eyes, but he remembered what Beau said. Instead, he pushed down his default need to get irritated at Zach and let the words register. He wasn’t sure who was surprised more by the slight grin that spread across his face.

“If we can pick up dinner on the way, let’s head to your place,” Chris replied.

Zach was a really good actor. He only looked like he was having a heart attack for a moment before he schooled his features into a smile again, squeezing Chris’ shoulders.

“Good,” Zach managed to say, “I need a ride home anyway. We can pick up some Chinese food and beer on the way.”

“Sounds good,” Chris smiled more easily now, relaxing into Zach’s side just a little.  
********

“This is the most misogynistic scene in the most misogynistic play I have ever read!” Chris exclaimed around a mouthful of lo mein.

“For realsies,” Zach mumbled, fork in his mouth.

Chris stared at him, vaguely amused, until Zach looked up at him.

“What?”

Chris smirked, “Did you really just say ‘for realsies’?”

Zach broke out into a slow grin. “So what if I did.”

Chris grinned down at his plate, “How very sixteen-year-old girl of you.”

Chris flinched as a packet of soy sauce bounced off his forehead before gawking up at Zach.

“Oh my God, like, totally shut up, slut!” Zach said in, what Chris could only assume, was his best Valley Girl impression.

Chris snorted and Zach began to chuckle.

“Well, Beverly Hills Barbie,” Chris ventured a bit more seriously, “What does gaying up the most misogynistic Shakespeare play ever get us? The most misogynistic gay play ever? Or some strange brand of homophobic gay play?”

Zach looked thoughtful as he stabbed as some errant broccoli on his plate. “I’m not sure,” he finally answered, “I think it depends on how we deliver it.”

They stared at each other for a moment,

“Chris?”

Chris raised an eyebrow slightly in response, which Zach correctly took as his cue to continue.

“What made you change your mind?”

“What do you mean?” Chris questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, you seemed pretty hell-bent on hating me until this afternoon…”

Chris fought the blush he could feel creeping up his neck to paint his cheeks and ears red. He shoveled a fork full of rice into his mouth to stall.

“We have to work together, right?” Chris managed to choke out.

He could feel Zach’s eyes as if they were singeing him before the other man replied slowly, “Right.”

Chris took a deep breath, “Well…”

“Well.”

Chris swallowed thickly, “Someone occasionally smarter than myself pointed out I was acting like a no-fun prick.”

Zach burst into a fit of laughter and Chris, blushing fully now, found he couldn’t help joining him.

“You have very wise friends.”

Chris watched Zach jump as the packet of duck sauce he flung smacked Zach in the cheek.

“You’re kind of a rambling goof, Quinto.”

Zach smiled at Chris, mischievously.

“And you’re kind of an uptight bitch, Pine.”

Chris barely managed to block his face from the barrage of condiment packets Zach started flinging at him,

“Oh my God! Enough, please!” Chris whined.

“Not on your life,” Zach laughed, reaching over and thwapping a packet against Chris’ arm.

“Okay, what the fuck? That is it!” Chris jumped up from his seat, glaring at Zach.

The smile on Zach’s face faltered and he dropped the packet in his hand.

“I’m trying to be your friend here, Zach!”

“Okay, okay,” Zach raised his empty hands in surrender, clearly trying to appease Chris.

Chris’ glare morphed into an evil grin, as he reached over and dropped a handful of fortune cookies on top of Zach’s head.

Zach sat there, staring completely dumbstruck up at Chris’ jubilant expression, before reaching for his beer bottle and raising it in a toast.

“You win this round, Pine.”

Chris quirked an eyebrow and laughed, causing Zach to smile.

“Sit down and finish your food,” Zach told him. He made no move to retrieve the fortune cookie stuck atop his head.

“Sure thing, dearest,” Chris answered, winking. “We wouldn’t want to hold up that love scene.”

Chris narrowly avoided the cookie that was chucked at his head.  
********

Their first student rehearsal, and subsequently Chris and Zach’s first class without Jo or Eddie around, went swimmingly. At least, in Chris’ opinion it did.

“Alright everyone,” Zach announced at the start. “My name’s Zach, and this handsome guy next to me is Chris.”

Chris smirked and waved to the students who were all giggling.

“What we need you all to do is break into your scenes and chat for the next… thirty or so minutes. Include everyone. If you’re doing a monologue, Gina and Emily, talk to one another. We want you to get familiar with one another. After that, Chris and I will begin whipping you all into shape so you don’t embarrass us on stage in April,” Zach informed them. “Go to it.”

As the class broke off into groups, Chris leaned in pressing his shoulder to Zach’s so he could whisper close, “Mean TA.”

Zach smiled at him and shrugged, leaning into Chris a little as well. “Someone’s gotta be the bad cop.”

Chris laughed.

“Speaking of ‘Mean TA’,” Zach segued, “How are _your_ lines coming along?”

Chris sighed. “Seeing as nothing I do is short of perfect, they are coming along stupendously.”

“So modest,” Zach elbowed Chris lightly.

Chris winked, “You love it.”

Zach grinned.

“How about your lines?”

“Oh, terribly.”

Chris stared at Zach a moment.

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah,” Zach nodded, “You know me: I don’t take anything seriously. I figured I’d leave it til last minute. You can carry the scene alone.”

Chris scoffed, “You’re making fun of me.”

Zach threw his arm across Chris’ shoulders and squeezed Chris to his side, growling quietly, “You love it.”

Chris could feel himself blush.

“Uh, Zach?” One of the girls in the _Romeo & Juliet_ scene called to him.

“Yeah?” Zach called back, releasing Chris and heading toward the two of them.

Suddenly fidgety, Chris turned toward the opposite side of the playhouse to check in with the _Othello_ group. Matthew, the intense kid playing Iago, jumped on the chance to ask Chris as many questions as possible. When Chris finally got away, his phone vibrated, announcing a new text.

  
_From: Zach_

_You wanna get food and run lines after we’re done here?_

_Received:  
Wednesday 7:42PM  
_

Chris looked up from his phone to find Zach watching him across the room. Chris grinned and tilted his head before typing a text back.

  
_To: Zach_

_Absolutely._

_Sent:  
Wednesday 7:45PM _

********

“Sooooooo?”

Beau came practically skipping out of nowhere while Chris was on the way to class.

Chris eyed her as if she had three heads, “Aren’t you a little old for skipping around?”

She rolled her eyes, “Old Professor Chris, I am _so sorry_ to have offended your _delicate_ sense of propriety.” She began striding elegantly beside him, head held regally high.

Chris snickered, “Loon.”

She smiled back, bumping his shoulder with hers.

“So what?” he asked after a moment.

“How did your dinner date go the other night? What was that, the twelfth one? You got home awfully late. Then I didn’t get a chance to ask yesterday… you two have become practically inseparable over the past couple of weeks, haven’t you.”

Chris mock glared at her, switching his Venti latte to his other hand so he could fish his vibrating phone out of his jeans pocket.

“It wasn’t a date,” he mumbled, pointedly not looking at her. He furrowed his brow as he stared at the screen of his phone.

  
_From: Zach_

_Just passed Matthew Billings in the hall._  
He is wearing a monocle.  
Said it was to understand Iago better. 

_Received:  
Friday 12:20PM  
_

Chris snorted. Beau smirked at him.

“You’re texting each other now? God, this is a serious relationship. Should I call the florist and caterer?”

Chris blushed despite himself, “Very mature, Beau. I thought economists were bald, fat, middle-aged men. What’d they do-let you into the program to boost moral?”

She chortled, “Oh Chrissy-poo, you slay me.”

“Uuuugh, that nickname,” he groaned.

She grinned wider.

“Are we still on for the movies tomorrow?” she asked.

“Sure thing,” he answered, half-listening, as he tried to text Zach back single-handed.

  
_To: Zach_

_I didn’t realize Shakespeare based Iago off Mr. Peanut.._

_Sent: Friday 12:25PM_

When he finally hit send, he realized what she’d asked, “Wait a minute. I have to work on this scene with Zach tomorrow night. Is it alright if we go to a matinee?”

She sighed, “I’m being replaced.”

“Shut up.” he said, smiling at her.

“Chris has got it bad, for that insufferable theatre post-grad. That Zach’s made Chris part, with his carefully guarded heart,” Beau broke into spontaneous verse.

He reached over and swatted her arm with the hand still clutching his phone.

“Hey! Didn’t your dad ever tell you it’s not right to hit a girl?”

He snorted, “Some girl. Didn’t your dad ever tell you to leave poetry to actual poets?”

She stuck her tongue out at him before returning to their almost forgotten topic.

“Matinee and lunch?” she asked, “Your treat?”

He shook his head, sighing, “Yes, dear. Anything you say.”

“Awesome,” she stopped him walking and kissed him softly before heading into her classroom.

Chris turned back to his newly vibrating phone and grinned.

  
_NEW TXT MESSAGE_

_Zach Quinto_

  
********

 

Chris tapped his pen restlessly against his printout of the scene while sitting cross-legged on the stage floor. Zach was sprawled out on his back about a foot from Chris’ knee, staring at his own script, which he was holding up above his head, blocking out the stage lights.

Zach broke the silence, “Did ever Apollo so become a grove / As Chris this chamber with his princely gait?/ O! be thou Apollo, and let him be Chris, / And then let Chris be chaste, and Apollo sportful!”

“Where did you study all this goodly speech?” Chris asked.

Zach grinned, “It is extempore, from my mother-wit.”

Chris scoffed, “A witty mother! Witless else her son.”

Zach sighed, dropping his arms to the floor and turning his head to look at Chris, “This isn’t working.”

“Not so much, no,” Chris dropped his chin into his hand and leaned his elbow on his knee, staring at Zach.

“We need to actually start with the acting now. How far along are you with your memorization?” Zach asked.

Chris sat up straight, stretching his back before leaning backward with his palms on the floor behind him. “About eighty-five percent?”

Zach slapped the stage before gracefully getting to his feet. “Good. We need to block the fuck out of this shit.”

Chris laughed.

“Too much?” Zach smirked.

“Definitely, man.”

Chris took Zach’s offered hand and oofed as he was pulled to his feet and into Zach’s personal bubble.

Zach bowed his head slightly, staring up at Chris, eyebrow arched, “Good morrow, Chris; for that’s your name, I hear.”

Chris swallowed anxiously before taking a step backward, responding, “Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing: They call me Christopher that do talk of me.”

Zach, smirking arrogantly, slowly stalked forward, as Chris continued his slow retreat. “You lie, in faith; for you are call’d plain Chris. And bonny Chris, and sometimes Chris the curst… But, Chris, the prettiest Chris in Christendom; Chris of Chris-Hall, my super-dainty Chrissy— For dainties are all Chrises— and therefore, Chris, Take this of me, Chris of my consolation…”

Chris felt the curtain brush against his back and stopped moving, though Zach continued forward as he continued his speech, “Hearing thy mildness prais’d in every town thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,— Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,— myself am mov’d to woo thee for my husband.”

The last word was uttered in the three inches of space between their noses. Chris stared wide-eyed at the predatory look on Zach’s face. He licked his lips nervously, before twisting out of Zach’s trap and moving back toward center stage.

“Mov’d in good time: let him that mov’d you hither _remove you hence_ ,” he waved Zach off agitatedly, “I knew you at the first, you were a moveable.”

Zach leapt after him, arms outspread, face jolly and arrogant, “Why, what’s a moveable?”

Chris crinkled his nose, looking Zach up and down as Zach seemed to dance around him, “A joint-stool.”

Zach clapped. “Thou hast hit it!” He exclaimed. “Come! Sit on me!”

The next thing Chris knew, Zach had dropped down on one knee, taking hold of Chris’ hand in his, and pulling Chris toward him once again. Chris, caught off guard and off balance, tumbled forward, landing on Zach’s raised knee with a force greater than either had anticipated, toppling them both to the floor, tangled together, laughing.

They were startled to hear clapping resonate throughout the theater.

“Bravo!”

Carefully, they extracted themselves from their pile and stood. Chris could see Zach’s cheeks were red and he could feel the creeping heat of his own blush.

“Beau!” Chris yelped, when he regained enough brainpower to recognize who was standing at the back of the playhouse. She was standing, hands clasped in front of her mouth, laughing. Chris straightened himself out, taking a quick step away from Zach before clearing his throat to ask him.

“You alright?”

Zach’s blush was unwavering as was his gaze directed at Beau.

“I’m sorry,” Beau called as she approached the stage, “I had a tutoring appointment this evening, and I dropped Chris off on campus after lunch, so I figured I’d come give him a ride home… Plus I wanted to meet this Zach Quinto who’s always texting my Chrissy.”

Chris groaned, “Jesus, Beau. Must you insist on using that name?”

Both Chris and Zach moved downstage and easily jumped down into the orchestra pit, grabbing their scripts off the stage edge where they had left them.

“Always,” Beau answered, stepping up beside Chris. She leaned over and kissed him chastely.

Chris rolled his eyes before turning to Zach once again. “Sorry about this, man.”

Beau punched Chris’ shoulder, “Introduce us, please.”

Chris rolled his eyes, “Beau Garrett, Zach Quinto. Zach, Beau.”

She reached out to shake his hand, beaming at him. “I have heard sooooooo much about you.”

Zach smiled softly, taking her hand, “Nice to meet you.”

He stopped watching Beau long enough to look at Chris and reply, “It’s late. We should call it a night.”

“You sure?” Chris asked.

“If you guys aren’t finished, I can just head home. That is, Zach, if you don’t mind giving Chris a ride,” Beau piped in.

“No, no worries. We’ll pick it back up on Monday evening?” Zach asked, staring at his script.

Chris answered, “Sure thing. Jo and Eddie will be joining us next week, so we’ll get it all down this week?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Zach answered, glancing from Chris to Beau, “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

Chris could barely utter a goodnight before Zach was disappearing across the playhouse and out the door, phone in hand.

“What was that about?” Chris asked Beau, brow furrowed.

“Did I interrupt something?” She asked in return.

He shook his head slowly, “I don’t know…”  
********

 

Monday’s class lecture came and went with Zach bustling into class just as Jo was calling for everyone’s attention and Zach fleeing the classroom just as quickly when Eddie called out his closing goodbye.

Chris didn’t waste any time before texting him.

  
_To: Zach_

_Hey, man. You alright?_

_Sent:  
Monday 3:05PM  
_

Chris waited ten minutes—five minutes longer than it usually took Zach to respond to him—to send off another text.

  
_To: Zach_

_Did you want to go to the union to get some dinner before we run the scene tonight, Petruchio?_

_Sent:  
Monday 3:16PM _

Zach’s reply was almost instantaneous.

  
_From: Zach_

_Sorry. Have to cancel. Something’s come up. Will see you Wednesday. - Z_

_Received:  
Monday 3:17PM _

“Z?” Chris asked aloud.

“Is the last letter of the alphabet…” Eddie offered as clarification as he brushed past Chris on the way out of the lecture hall.

Chris, startled, looked up at him and laughed, “Uh, yes. That’s true. Thanks.”

Eddie cocked hi head to the side, giving Chris a questioning look, “You alright, Pine?”

Chris nodded, “Oh yeah. Completely fine. Thanks. I’ll, uh, see you next week?”

Eddie arched an eyebrow. “Yup,” he responded before slipping out of the room. Chris was left alone wondering when Zach had become so formal as to sign his texts.  
********

 

They were back to running lines, from memory now, without any blocking on Wednesday evening. Chris was far less concerned with his lines though, as he studied Zach. Zach seemed completely wound up, the exact opposite of his usual personality. Chris wanted to come out and ask what was up, but he resisted. If Zach wanted him to know, Zach would tell him. Plus, Chris was too annoyed at Zach’s complete one-eighty in behavior to have any kind of discussion right now. Instead, Chris turned back to his script and danced around the subject like a pro.

“Zach?” Chris cautiously asked.

“Yeah?”

“Shouldn’t we get the choreography down?”

Zach looked Chris in the eye— a suddenly very rare occurrence— and sighed, “We should finish memorizing the lines, then we can block it out on Friday…”

Chris watched as Zach trailed off, turning back to his script.

“We could call it a night.”

Chris, startled, blurted out, “What?!”

Zach studied the pages in his hands with a forced nonchalance, “We can’t really do anything else until we’re one-hundred percent memorized. Let’s just call it a night and meet here again on Friday. We can keep the playhouse open for a few hours after rehearsal with the class.”

Chris wanted to protest, to call Zach out on his sudden bullshit. Over the past months, Chris had gotten close to Zach. Close enough to know that Zach was acting right now, and doing a shitty job of it, to boot.

Chris just bit his tongue. “Sure thing, man. We’ll run it through on Wednesday then. You need a ride home?”

Zach shook his head, “No, thanks. I drove.”

“You want to go get some food?” Chris asked.

Zach looked up at him, forcing a smile, “Thanks. I’ve got to get home though. Feed the dog. Some other time.”

Chris once again found himself watching Zach’s retreating form, and this time, he was absolutely seething.  
********

 

“Alright, everyone,” Chris called the class to attention Friday afternoon. “Zach and I will be calling you by your character names from here on out. Show of hands: who’s completely off using the script now?”

About three quarters of the class raised their hands.

“Alright,” Chris nodded. “Of the rest of you, who’s at 80% memorization?”

The remainder raised their hands.

“Good, good,” Chris crossed his arms over his chest. He was standing in the orchestra pit, leaning back against the edge of the stage. Zach was standing on the other side of the stage.

“Alright,” Zach spoke, “Break up into your scenes, kids. It’s time to show us what you’ve got so far.”

As the students spread out across the playhouse—some in pockets on the stage, others around the room, between aisles and chairs—Zach approached Chris.

“We should split up today. Evaluate them individually. That way we’ll at least each see half of the scenes.” Zach’s voice was almost a murmur and he refused to make eye contact with Chris.

“Sure thing,” Chris responded, voice tight.

Zach nodded before heading across the room to evaluate Viola. Chris willed himself to calm down as he moved toward the Merchant of Venice group. He’d been completely tense for the past two days and he didn’t want to accidentally snap at any of the students just because Zach was being a world-class prick.

Portia was already deep within her monologue, “But mercy is above this sceptred sway. It is enthroned in the hearts of kings. It is an attribute to God himself; and earthly power doth then show likest God's, when mercy seasons justice.”

She was staring at Antonio until she spoke the next few lines, finally looking to Shylock, “Therefore, Jew, though justice be thy plea, consider this: that in the course of justice none of us should see salvation.”

She turned her gaze back to Antonio before continuing. “We do pray for mercy.”

Finally, her gaze found Bassanio’s, “And that same prayer doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy.”

When she finished speaking, Portia turned to look at Chris, waiting for his input.

“Why were you watching Antonio?” he asked.

She seemed caught off guard by the question.

“You told me to—“

“No, no,” Chris waved his hand, shushing her defensive answer. “I know what Zach and I told you. I want you to tell me what you were feeling, Portia. What was your motivation?”

She blinked a few times, working her jaw agitatedly, before taking a deep breath and looking at the other students in her group.

“I hate Antonio. He’s who my husband really loves and I know Bassanio will never love me as much as he’ll love Antonio. But I love Bassanio, so much that I will defend Antonio and save him from death. I’m not preaching the merits of mercy to Shylock. I’m preaching them to myself as I try to come to terms with the fact that Antonio didn’t do anything deserving of my hatred. He can’t help who loves him anymore than I can make Bassanio return my love.”

Chris smiled at her when she turned back toward him. “Very good.”

She beamed.

“That is exactly the kind of emotion you’re conveying with your gaze. Don’t be afraid to let go: let the grief and the subsequent acceptance wash over your features. This scene, unlike the others, is a lot less about changing the script. This one is much more about changing the way it’s acted. Shakespeare filled this play with all the gay in the world—it’s just a matter of the actors bringing it to the forefront. You’re on the right track. Keep at it.”

The whole group was bubbling with Chris’ praise as he moved onto the next scene. He glanced across the room in time to catch Zach laughing with “Romeo” and Juliet.

Chris tried his best not to scowl as he approached Lady Anne who was struggling with the line, “In deadly hate the one against the other.”  
********

 

As soon as the last student exited the playhouse, Zach was up on the stage, stretching.

Chris checked the aisles for left behind scripts or forgotten bags as he made his way toward the stage himself. He twisted his neck side-to-side trying to relieve any tension he could, but he was about ready to pounce and kill.

He had to confront Zach.

Chris climbed the stairs onto the stage slowly, gathering a deep breath to broach the subject.

No sooner had Chris stepped on stage than Zach was calling out, “Good morrow, Chris; for that’s your name, I hear.”

Chris clenched his hands into fists at his sides as he clamped his jaw shut so tightly that his teeth actually ground against one another. He simply stared at Zach like that for a moment. Zach, was the absolute picture of arrogance.

The next thing out of Chris’ mouth was a barking yell, “Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing: they call me Christopher that do talk of me.”

For an instant Zach looked frightened, before morphing the expression into one of amused shock. “You lie, in faith: for you are call’d plain Chris,” he continued the scene without stalking Chris as he had done last time. He only moved a fraction of the distance closer, keeping a cautiously wide berth as he danced around Chris. “And bonny Chris. And sometimes Chris the curst. But, Chris, the prettiest Chris in Christendom. Chris of Chris-Hall. My super-dainty Chrissy—” Zach voice broke and he took a deep breath before continuing the speech, taking a few steps closer to Chris.

“For dainties are all Chrises; and therefore, Chris, Take this of me, Chris of my consolation… Hearing thy mildness prais’d in every town, thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded—yet not so deeply as to thee belongs—myself am mov’d to woo thee…” Zach was once again face to face with Chris, though a good half a foot further away than he had been the week before, and his expression faltered again before he schooled it into a predatory leer. “Woo thee for my husband.”

Chris glared, angry and confused at Zach’s weirdness, before growling out, “Mov’d in good time. Let him that mov’d you hither remove you hence.” Before he could think the better of it, Chris reached out and shoved Zach backward. While Zach stumbled for a moment, Chris stomped off across the stage calling back, “I knew you at the first, you were a moveable.”

“Why, what’s a moveable?” Zach called after Chris.

Chris whirled on him, “A joint-stool.”

Zach smiled mirthlessly and tilted his head to the side, “Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me.” He made a swipe for Chris’ hand, but Chris pulled it from Zach’s reach.

Zach glared and lunged forward, grabbing Chris and somehow lifting him off the ground.

“What the fuck!” Chris screamed,

“I should be asking you the same thing, prick,” Zach huffed out the words on labored breath, trying to throw Chris over his shoulder. “You were supposed to let me take your hand.”

Chris kneed Zach in the stomach, knocking them both to the stage floor. Chris threw himself on top of coughing Zach.

“What the fuck is your issue?” Chris hissed. “Why have you been acting like such an asshole for the past week?”

“Bite me!” Zach coughed back, winded.

“I just might if you don’t stop acting like a world class douche,” Chris told him, “What the fuck did I do?”

“What?” Zach asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Well, I must’ve done something to make you so uncomfortable around me,” Chris barked, digging his fingers into Zach’s shoulders a little, “If you just tell me, I can say I’m sorry and we can go back to the way things were, dipshit.”

Zach winced, staring off to the side, before turning a mournful look back at Chris, “You didn’t do anything. Well, maybe you did. I mean, it was my fault for assuming, but you didn’t give any kind of indication I was wrong. Still, I should have just asked, but you seemed to be on the same page as me—”

“ZACH!” Chris yelled, shaking Zach a little. Zach shut up and stared as Chris continued, “You’re doing that rambling thing that gave me a headache the first day of the semester again… what are you trying to say?”

Zach took a deep breath and blurted it out, “Why didn’t you say something about Beau?”

“Beau?” Chris was pretty sure he’d never been more confused, “Do you know her or something?” Chris eased up his hold on Zach and sat back on his heels, allowing Zach to pull himself away from Chris’ clutches.

Zach sighed, “No, I don’t know her.”

Chris stared at him, “Are you pissed she interrupted our rehearsal or something? She didn’t mean anything by it…”

“No, Chris,” Zach shook his head, frustrated, “No… I mean, why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”

“What?”

Zach pulled himself up into a seated position across from Chris and ran his hand nervously through his hair. “Friends usually mention significant others to… you know… never mind. I’m stupid. I’m sorry. Let’s get back to the scene.”

Chris grabbed Zach’s knee, pushing Zach back down onto the stage when Zach tried to get up. He grabbed Zach’s shoulders, not letting Zach move, as Chris scooted closer, kneeling over him.

“Chris, please!”

“No! “ Chris barked, “You’ve been running from me for a week now. What the hell is wrong?”

“Just let it go, Chris.”

“Fuck you, Zach!” Chris seethed. “I thought we were closer than this!”

“So did I!” Zach yelled, angrily, “The problem is I thought we were getting a hell of a lot closer than you apparently did since you have a girlfriend. I stupidly thought we were on the verge of something. I mean, even if you’re bi, you’re taken.”

Chris stared at Zach a moment while Zach stared at the stage.

“You ever seen Will & Grace?” Chris finally asked softly.

Zach nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Beau’s the Grace to my Will,” Chris continued, “Complete with the dating in undergrad and almost engagement.”

Chris could feel himself blushing when Zach stared up at him again, mouth gaping like a drunken fish, cheeks blushing red.

“You’re not stupid,” Chris continued. “I _am_ gay.”

Chris released his grip on one of Zach’s shoulders and trailed his fingertips down Zach’s neck, eliciting a gasp. When Chris reached the neck of Zach’s t-shirt, he fisted it.

“We should really kiss now,” Chris whispered.

“Yeah,” Zach breathed in a rush, “Yes.”

Zach reached up, curling his fingers around the nape of Chris’ neck, and pressed his lips to Chris’ own. Chris pressed forward, angling his mouth to deepen the kiss, causing Zach to gasp. Chris smiled against Zach’s lips.

“Had you thought we were dating without saying anything this whole time?” Chris asked, the words partially lost within Zach’s mouth.

Zach reached up with the hand he’d been using to prop himself upright and pulled Chris down over him like when he’d been pinned earlier. Chris dragged his lips from Zach’s so he could whisper in Zach’s ear, “You did didn’t you?”

Zach groaned and Chris could see his blush deepen, “Just shut up.”

Chris chuckled. “And to think I kept telling myself I was just getting my hopes up imagining things were moving beyond friendship with us.”

Zach reached down and tweaked one of Chris’ nipples through the fabric of his shirt.

“OW!”

“Shut up!” Zach growled before lunging up and crushing Chris’ mouth with his once again.  
********

 

Monday after class found Chris and Zach both on stage once again, this time with both Jo and Eddie.

Eddie entered mid-scene, playing the part of Chris’ father, while Zach struggled to keep a flailing Chris within his embrace.

“Now, Signior Zachary, how speed you with my son?” Eddie questioned.

“How but well, sir? How but well?” Zach yelled in answer around his armful of squirming Chris. Chris took the opportunity to feign stomping on Zach’s foot. Zach winced like a pro, releasing Chris. His next words were ground out breathlessly, “It were impossible I should speed amiss.”

Eddie turned his curious look toward Chris, “Why, how now, son Christopher! In your dumps?”

Chris huffed, “Call you me son? Now, I promise you, you have show’d a tender fatherly regard to wish me wed to one half lunatic… A mad-cap ruffian and a swearing Jack! That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.” Chris crossed his arms over his chest, taking a decidedly unhappy stance.

Both Eddie and Jo turned to Zach, accusing. Zach just laughed it off nervously, “Father, ’tis thus: yourself and all the world, that talk’d of him, have talk’d amiss of him. If he be curst, it is for policy, for he’s not froward, but modest as the dove. He is not hot, but temperate as the morn. For patience he will prove a second Grissel, and Roman Lucrece for his chastity. And to conclude, we have ’greed so well together, that upon Sunday is the wedding-day.”

Chris dropped his hands to his sides, balled into fists, as he boomed, “I’ll see thee hang’d on Sunday first.”

Cautiously, Jo piped in, “Hark, Zachary: he says he’ll see thee hang’d first. Is this your speeding? Nay then—good night our part!”

Both Jo and Eddie turned to leave. Zach reached out to stop them, instantly, “Be patient, gentlemen; I choose him for myself. If he and I be pleas’d, what’s that to you?”

Having caught their attentions once again, Zach reached over and took hold of one of Chris’ fist, wrapping his own fingers around it before grinding out, “’Tis bargain’d ’twixt us twain, being alone, that he shall still be curst in company. I tell you, ’tis incredible to believe how much he loves me: O! the kindest Chris.”

Zach spoke the last words, turning to face Chris, ridiculously moony-eyed in comparison to Chris’ ever-present scowl. He raised Chris’ fist and kissed the knuckles, barely dodging the punch Chris tried to turn the gesture of chivalry into. Growling, Chris grabbed Zach into a headlock.

“He hung about my neck,” Zach choked out, “and kiss on kiss he vied so fast, protesting oath on oath, that in a twink he won me to his love.”

Chris released him and began walking away.

“Oh, you are novices,” Zach proclaimed, straightening himself out, “’Tis a world to see, how tame, when men are alone.” He lunged after Chris, dragging Chris back over to center stage.

Zach continued, breathing labored again, “A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.”

He released Chris who reached to choke Zach once again. Quickly, Zach grabbed Chris’ hand and twined their fingers together.

Zach squeezed Chris’ fingers tightly, making Chris bend over wincing, “Give me thy hand, Chris: I will unto Venice To buy apparel ’gainst the wedding-day.”

Zach turned a forced smile toward Eddie, “Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests; I will be sure my Christopher shall be fine.”

Eddie, shocked, moved between them, and laid a hand on both of their shoulders. He seemed completely oblivious to Chris’ squeaks of pain.

“I know not what to say,” Eddie announced, joyfully, “but give me your hands.”

He grabbed their painfully gripped hands and held them high before continuing, eliciting another pained squeak from Chris. “God send you joy, Zachary! ’tis a match.”

Jo offered exuberantly, “Amen, say I: I will be witness.”

Zach grinned cockily and released Chris’ hand, grabbing his wrist instead. “Father, and husband, and gentlemen, adieu. I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace: We will have rings, and things, and fine array.”

Zach turned back toward a red and sweating Chris and yanked him against his chest, before finishing, “And, kiss me, Chris. We will be married o’ Sunday.”

Before Chris could protest, Zach claimed his mouth in a brutal kiss.

Unable to hold onto the character anymore, Chris leaned into Zach’s rough embrace and Zach eased up his attack, swiping his tongue against Chris’ lower lip.

Wild applause and whooping finally broke them apart. The two flushed and sweating men turned to see Jo and Eddie beaming at them.

“Thank God,” Eddie called.

“It certainly took the two of you long enough,” Jo laughed.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Chris groaned, “Had you both seriously been expecting this from the beginning?”

Eddie winked.

“Ever since we decided to add this scene to the list,” Jo answered.

Chris turned to look at Zach, “It’s like we’re in a fucking teen movie or something!”

Zach laughed at him, gripping Chris’ elbow. “Go with the flow, Chris.”

“Fucking ridiculous,” Chris mumbled, staring up at the ceiling.

Zach shoved his fingers into Chris’ short hair and redirected Chris’ gaze forward before grinning, “Just kiss me, Chris!”

Grinning in return, Chris leaned forward, happily obeying.

_Exeunt_

**Author's Note:**

> SUPER amounts of love and thanks to my friend someidiothasice for the hand-holding and MAJOR votes of confidence- I wouldn’t have made it through this fic without you, love! <333 And, as always, my soul and undying devotion go to my magnificent beta karaokegal- you’re always there for a last minute fix (I really need to get over this procrastinating business ;-]). I'm ridiculously proud of this fic, and I have them to thank for helping make it so awesome. <33333


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